We'll Never Know
by JadeSelena
Summary: My version of the last couple minutes of 3x03. Follows Gail but with an added scene. Gail/Dov, Gail/Nick. Angst, of course.


**Well, they clearly refuse to throw Gail/Dov fans a bone... I tell you, keeping my Peckstein love alive is starting to feel like a full-time job, and while eventually I will get fed up of working for free and without hope of payoff they haven't gotten rid of me yet. I guess what really bugs me is the complete disregard of history; I was here last year, I remember what happened. I wish the characters would lol**

**Now that I've gotten that out of my system I would like to give my sincere thanks to whomever nominated 'God Help Her' for various awards in the Rookies Choice RB awards - I know Peckstein isn't a hugely popular pairing and I'm sincerely grateful to my loyal readers. Thank you for thinking of me and my little (now overly-long) story :)**

**This isn't very long but it was amazingly difficult to write so please be gentle ;) It follows Gail through the last couple of minutes of 3x03 and starts before she's met up with Traci, to give you an idea. Enjoy!**

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Gail lazed against the wall across the hall, for all the world like she was just taking a break on her way to _somewhere_, until Jerry emerged from the observation room. When their eyes met she knew _he_ knew why she was there. He was nice enough not to call her on it, though; just offer a half-smile, and she nodded at him – part acknowledgement, part gratitude – before he continued on his way. Taking a steadying breath she entered the door he'd just exited and gently shut it behind her.

Dov didn't need to see the white-gold reflected in the window to know who was intruding upon his solitude – he'd felt her the moment she'd walked in – and without turning around he calmly announced, "You're in the wrong room…" He'd been in complete shock at the store, the faces around him (voices talking _to _him) more a blur than anything distinctive, but he'd have known if she were there. He wasn't surprised that she _hadn't_ been – after months of the silent treatment he knew exactly where they stood – but that she hadn't even cared to check in… Considering how everyone else had rallied around him her continued absence had been both conspicuous and markedly painful.

The detachment in his tone was belied by the hurt that radiated off of him, his back rod straight and his posture guarded. She wanted to tell him she'd (discreetly) tried to get off Tourney duty but Frank hadn't bit, or that she'd kept tabs on him (through various people, in passing [couldn't have anyone thinking she was _too _interested]), but neither of those facts would change anything; wouldn't change that he'd had one hell of a day and she hadn't done a damn thing to make it better. _Still_ wasn't, if she were being honest with herself… "Do you want me to leave?"

That was a trick question if ever there was one, he thought. Even if he said 'yes' he knew she probably _wouldn't_. Even if he said 'yes' she'd probably know he was lying. He couldn't bring himself to say 'no,' though, so he said nothing.

An engraved invitation it was not, but it was the sentiment _behind_ the non-response that made her stay. It was the resigned drooping of his shoulders that had her moving to wrap her arms around his waist; him relaxing just slightly against her that had her resting her cheek against his shoulder and closing her eyes. It was just a hug – nothing romantic or sexual about it – and it was sad that it always took a near-death experience for it to happen at all. It _was _just a hug, until he turned in her embrace and the haunted look in his eyes had her willing to do absolutely anything just to make it go away. Had her gripping his shirt to pull him to her…

"Are you going to say something or is this just the 'quiet judgment' portion of my evening?"

Gail blinked out of the reverie to find herself still standing in front of the door, him still staring into the interview room at Cory Barnes. It was a good thing he _wasn't_ facing her because how real it had felt had her _also_ blinking back tears… "I'm not here to judge you," she managed past the lump in her throat. "I just wanted to say I'm glad everything worked out…"

Everything was hardly 'worked out' but he knew what she meant; heard it in her voice. "Why do I get the impression you didn't think it _would_?" Her lack of faith stung far more than it should have.

The possibility _had_ crossed her mind and she wouldn't even bother denying it. "Are you trying to tell me you didn't doubt it yourself?" She knew he had because she knew _him_; as certain as he was of what he'd seen the sheer gravity of the outcome would have shaken his confidence if not shattered it completely.

Dov couldn't say she was wrong but it was different when it was happening to _you_. The others had continued to believe in him even when he hadn't been able to believe in himself; that she _hadn't _spoke volumes.

Gail had seen his back tense up at the inference but wasn't going to coddle him; if he couldn't handle a little scrutiny and self-doubt he was seriously in the wrong line of work. "Split-second decisions are part of the job, Dov; in that moment you have no choice but to rely on your instincts." Softening her tone she reasoned, "But sometimes things aren't what they seem. Sometimes our instincts are wrong…"

That she'd switched from 'you' to 'our' made Dov wonder if there wasn't a hidden message there he was just too numb to pick up on. "And if my instincts _had _been wrong?" he posed quietly, almost afraid of her answer. "What would you be saying _then_?"

_After _she'd called in every favor she could? "That you made a _mistake_ – an understandable one – and that you're just going to have to find a way to deal." It was nowhere near that simple, she knew, but that was really what it came down to: learning to live with it. And that wasn't even contingent on it being a _mistake_…

Whether it was wanting to see if she really meant it or just wanting to see _her_ Dov didn't know, but he finally turned around.

Gail wasn't surprised to see the same haunted look in his eyes that she'd imagined not five minutes before; had to suppress the same need to do whatever she could to take it away. "But you _weren't_ wrong. It was him or you and you made the right choice; the only one you _could _given the situation." Holding his gaze she promised, "The only person blaming you here is _you_…"

If it was supposed to call to mind another of her ass-backwards pep talks it had succeeded, and he hated that just when he thought he'd gotten over her she turned around and reminded him why he didn't really _want_ to.

The air between them had suddenly become thick, devastatingly reminiscent of another time, and Gail moved to dispel it with a deadpanned (and intentionally tasteless), "You're just lucky he was such a crap shot…"

Dov shook his head at the assertion that was so inappropriate and yet so completely _her_. "Yeah – that doesn't make me feel any better…"

Well, it made _her _feel better and she wasn't about to apologize for it. "Then at least be grateful you had Traci and Andy in your corner – if not for them fighting so hard to clear your name you'd be in some serious trouble."

"Because you wouldn't have?" He thought it was a fair question, considering she'd made the insinuation. Or maybe it was his need to know talking and not her at all…

Gail was having a hard time mustering up the energy to fight for much of _anything_ lately but she hadn't exactly been given a chance, either… Forcing a casual shrug she dismissed, "I guess we'll never know, will we?" She hadn't anticipated the regret that had managed to seep into her voice; _definitely_ hadn't intended the connotation it carried. "Anyway…" she quickly covered, "that's what I came to say."

It seemed to Dov there was a lot more she _wasn't_ saying but he'd trusted his instincts enough for one day. _That_, and the last time he'd trusted his instincts when it came to _her_ it had gotten him a four-month time-out…

He looked more confused than broken, now, and while she'd revealed far more than she'd intended Gail considered it information well spent. _And_ her cue to get the hell out of dodge… Turning to the door she paused to warn over her shoulder, "Oh, and Dov? If you go out and do something stupid because of this?" The appearance of indifference that had come so easily that morning came as a struggle now but she succeeded, glancing pointedly back at him. "It won't _just_ be judgment and it sure as hell won't be _quiet_…"

Dov didn't need great instincts to know that if he let her leave things were going to go back to the way they had been. "_Gail_…"

The rest of his whispered plea was cut off by the door swishing shut behind her, and Gail bit her lip against the resurgence of tears as she resolutely headed off down the hall. Seeing Traci with Jerry she was torn between wanting to get all the uncomfortable encounters out of the way now and wanting to avoid them altogether; concluded this one couldn't be any more awkward than the last so she forged ahead.

Noticing the blonde's approach Jerry immediately took the opportunity to end the discussion. "Okay. I'll see you at the car…"

Something told Traci he wasn't quite as excited about the rotation as he claimed but she let it go to concentrate on the impending confrontation. "Okay."

Gail didn't need to work for the somber expression she knew was expected, or the unhappy tone meant to mislead. "You… totally deserve it." She _did_ have to force a smile, intended to convey the 'thank you' that wasn't rightfully hers to give. For authenticity she fibbed, "I should never have even applied…"

"Then why did you?" Traci gently inquired, trying to reconcile this graciousness with the earlier derision. She suspected the change of heart had more to do with the day's events than a sudden appreciation for her talents, but whatever the reason she was just glad there were no hard feelings. Though she did have to wonder how Gail already knew the results when she'd only just found out herself…

Having served its purpose the smile disappeared and Gail shrugged, "Well, 'cause I'm a Peck and there are…" She searched for the words that would say enough without saying too much. "…certain expectations that go with the name." Expectations that affected their SSG as well. She didn't think Frank would have caved to pressure – if anything he was a stand-up guy – but if she just so happened to submit her application late then he couldn't be blamed for passing her over. Besides, her mother would _totally_ believe she just hadn't gotten her shit together in time…

Between waiting until the last minute and the lack of (even _feigned_) contempt Traci thought she'd be remiss if she didn't at least consider the possibility that Gail hadn't applied at all. Once upon a time the blonde wouldn't have hesitated to throw it in her face but a lot had changed since then. Like the untouchable and inscrutable Peck heir not being half as untouchable _or_ inscrutable as she had been… With just a touch of sympathy (as much as was allowed) Traci teased, "Peckspectations?"

"_Yeah_," Gail whisper-scoffed. It was one of those 'laugh or you cry' moments, and no matter how little she felt it she went with laugh because crying was for losers. Before her body could revolt and do it anyway she walked away. "You… you are so lucky, Traci," she advised dismissively. "You know exactly what you want…" Far from the parting blow she'd gone for it was the simple (and unfortunate) truth. She only _wished_ she could be as certain about _anything_ as Traci was about _everything_…

And as she got into her car it struck Gail that it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Traci had done everything backwards – the kid then the man and now the career – but was thriving. It wasn't fair that Gail was trying to do it the right way – the _Peckspected _way – and it was taking everything she had just to keep her head above water. That what _she_ wanted professionally didn't really matter so there was no reason to figure it out. That she couldn't bring herself to address what she wanted _romantically_ because she didn't trust herself to not be wrong.

If Gail could take her cop instincts and apply them to her personal life she'd be golden. She wouldn't even have _flinched_ if she'd been in Dov's place today, trained to think/ act/ react like police until it was all ingrained deeper than the fear of disgracing the family. But her parents had failed to similarly instruct her on matters of the heart – either through direction _or_ by example – and if it involved 'feelings' she was almost completely out of her element, her instincts defective. Otherwise she never would have believed Nick when he'd promised her forever; wouldn't have been utterly devastated when he'd disappeared without a word of explanation. She never would have assumed Chris' sweetness and naïveté were an indication that he didn't have it in him to do the same; wouldn't have been completely baffled and dejected when he'd summarily and without hesitation turned his back on her for something she had no control over. And she _definitely_ would have realized that Dov wasn't as harmless as he'd appeared to be; would have put a substantial distance between them at any one of the warning signs that (in hindsight) had been glaringly obvious.

It wasn't that Gail didn't believe they'd loved her – she thought her intuition was good there at least – it was that it hadn't made a difference in the end. Even Dov, after his heartrending confession, had been quick to throw her under the bus and resume business as usual. It seemed to her, especially with Nick looking to pick up where they'd left off, that the only thing love did was give the other person a power over you they wouldn't have otherwise. And while she couldn't erase the feelings she already had she _could_ make damned sure she didn't put herself in a position to be vulnerable again…

Watching through the angled rear view mirror she saw Nick emerge from the station; rolled her eyes as he said bye to everyone like the good little Boy Scout he was. She honestly had no clue what she was going to do until he bypassed the car and she made a split-second decision, leaning on her horn.

Even if Nick hadn't seen her sitting there the sound was just drawn out and obnoxious enough for there to be no doubt who was making it. He stopped – lips twitching into a satisfied smile – and considered continuing on to give her a taste of her own medicine; _didn't_ because he was pretty sure she'd call his bluff and the only one he'd end up punishing was himself… Retracing his steps he tapped on the window like he was naïve as to _why_ she was summoning him.

"Get in," she ordered evenly, and before he'd even settled into the seat she began the negotiations. "We need to lay some serious ground rules, okay?" She finally gave him her attention, holding his eyes to drive home that it was an _arrangement_, pure and simple; she needed a distraction and he was going to provide one.

Knowing he wasn't being given a choice Nick just nodded. "Okay."

_Smart boy. _"Don't look at me. Don't touch me." She assumed he was smart enough for the 'without permission' to be understood. "And don't give me those, like, really weird, creepy meaningful looks…" That part was too important to be left to conjecture; at the first appearance of _those_ she was running in the other direction the way she should have any of the _other_ times she'd been on the receiving end of one.

"Am I allowed to recall what you look like naked?" It was clearly facetious – she couldn't control what he thought any more than he could stop _himself_ from doing it.

Without even a trace of humor Gail countered, "Do you want me to punch you in the face?" She was tempted to do it anyway for making it sound like the last time had been the _first_ time but the dissociation suited her just fine. They had no history. There was no love lost (or found) between them. They were just two incredibly hot people who, for the time being, had decided to be incredibly hot _together_. That's all it was and that's all it would _remain_, because she wouldn't let it become more. She couldn't deal with 'more.' Not with him _or_ anyone else.

Nick sighed into the tension, marveling (once again, and not in the good way) at how much harder and colder she was. Thinking that he _hated_ it; even more so that it was probably because of him. Hated that when he tentatively smiled at her the guilt must have been written on his face because the calculating look on _hers_ said she was about to change her mind…

After a few seconds of contemplation Gail chose to let that one go because right then her need for company overpowered her need for detachment. Throwing the car into gear she told herself that tomorrow she wouldn't be so desperate. _Tomorrow_ she'd start enforcing the rules…

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**I hope you enjoyed my version of the end of 3x03 :)**

**I was going to write Gail's little fantasy as a separate story where it was real but decided it would be more to quell my dissatisfaction than character-driven (imo) so I went this way instead.**

**And now I'm going back to torturing Dov in that other fic ;)**

**Thanks for reading!**


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